


a small favor

by anonynon



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Cock that is WAY TOO LARGE, Is there a tag for fucking someone to unconciousness, Large Cock, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, now there is, ouma was not powerful enough this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 21:45:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9626855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonynon/pseuds/anonynon
Summary: Ouma thinks he can handle whatever life throws at him. Ouma is very wrong.Spoiler: the "favor" turns out to be much larger than expected.





	

“Nishishishi~ You’ve set yourself down the path of evil, Gonta, but I’m glad you’ve agreed to join.”

Gonta isn’t sure where Ouma started thinking that he meant he wanted to do something bad by agreeing to “join forces” (as Ouma put it, Gonta isn’t sure why he didn’t just accept calling them friends) with him and nothing about his cheerful grin gives any explanation for what he just meant by that.

So he asks, looking just as puzzled as he feels. He’s sitting on Ouma’s bed after being instructed to sit as he listened to Ouma’s speech on why they should “combine their powers” and “team up for his schemes” without a single specific detail about what any of that actually entailed.

“Um… Gonta doesn’t understand what you mean by “path of evil”, but there’s nothing evil about becoming friends.”

Seemingly ignoring his request for clarification, Ouma continues on with the same smile and complete lack of context for his words.

“Since you’re now my right hand man, as an evil leader, I’ll need a favor from you.”

“A favor?” Gonta asked, puzzled. He isn’t bothered by the fact that Ouma might need help with something, but to lead it up with “as an evil leader”…  That’s concerning, to say the least.

Ouma’s expression turns innocent, and he brings a finger to his chin as if he’s remembering something incidental. “Well, it’s a favor for you too. Every one of my subordinates who have done this favor for me has enjoyed it, after all.”

That doesn’t sound so bad, Gonta thinks, if everyone who’s done this before liked doing it. He also wonders why Ouma would need this favor done again if many people have done it for him before, but he also knows that Ouma is basically alone here and it would the furthest thing from gentleman-like to turn down his favor based on these assumptions.

“Alright, I’ll be happy to do this favor for you, Ouma-kun!”

Once more, Ouma’s expression changes. It goes from that look of innocence to something far more eager-  Gonta could even call it _suspicious_. That shifted grin widens and he looks directly into Gonta’s eyes.

“Good. It’s no fun if you don’t want to.”

Before Gonta can object or stop him, Ouma climbs onto the bed and straddles his thigh between his legs. He sits on it firmly, ever so slightly grinding his hips against the firm muscle of his leg. His reaction is immediate- his hands shoot out to grab the smaller boy’s shoulders.

“O-Ouma-kun, what are you doing?!”

Grabbing a strand of Gonta’s long, unruly hair into his fingers, twirling around his index finger idly, as if he isn’t leaning his head up into the front of Gonta’s neck and nuzzling his face into the hard, tense muscles, he giggles out a quiet response.

“Nishishishi, this _is_ part of the favor~” He speaks in a low, soft tone into his chest, a sound that makes Gonta’s entire body stiffen even further with a feeling he can’t name. “Gonta, are you that innocent? “

At this point, Gonta isn’t sure if he should feel frustrated at Ouma’s continuing ambiguity, or just keep trying for clarification. “Sorry, but Gonta still doesn’t understand what you’re asking for.”

Ouma continues to twirl the hair between his fingers, and shuffles his hips forward to the point where he’s practically sitting in Gonta’s lap. Now, it’s much easier to drape the arm that isn’t playing with Gonta’s hair over his muscularly solid shoulder and press his cheek into the other boy’s chest.

\--His heart’s like a drum in his ear, beating faster and faster by the second, and the thought that he’s causing that and making Gonta’s entire face turn bright red brings a wide, toothy grin to Ouma’s face.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

There, _that_ was the reaction Ouma really wanted to see. Gonta practically jumped underneath Ouma, bouncing both of them up and down on the matress, and he clearly was absolutely clueless as to what to do with his arms. He starts by flailing them to his sides, his head, Ouma’s shoulders, down to the sheets and finally settling on one behind his head, very sheepishly and shyly, and one clenched on the bed sheets.

“N-No, that’s- Um- Gonta hasn’t done that, no.” He manages to stutter out after a few failed attempts. His knee jerk reaction is to say he doesn’t need to know how right now, but thank you for your offer(?) Ouma-kun, but something more instinctual keeps his mouth shut and from saying anymore.

Giggling softly to himself, Ouma pulls his cheek back to look directly up into Gonta’s furiously red face with a thin smile. The fingers snared in his hair untangle themselves and his moves to gently place his thumb on Gonta’s lip, sweeping across the soft skin from side to side.

“Hmm~ As your leader, I can show you how. You want to be a “true gentleman”, right? This is all part of it, you know.” He leans closer, nose brushing against Gonta’s, and quiets his voice further. “You don’t want to be clueless when the time comes and your “lady” wants to do things like this with you, do you?”  

As far as Gonta knew about civilized society, things like cuddling, talking to each other so closely, kissing- these were things people who were in love, who were dating, or married were supposed to do. One of those, at very least. He agreed to be Ouma’s friend, but—

He knew it would be the proper thing to say no, because he wasn’t certain about his feelings. But something else in Gonta was pushing him to say yet, the very same feeling that was causing his cheeks to flush, his heart to beat this fast and his hands to settle on Ouma’s waist, one placed tentatively on each side.

“…Al…Alright….”

Not sure what else to do or say, Gonta closes his eyes tightly and waits for Ouma to show him what this was supposed to feel like. He hears the shuffling of body, feels Ouma placing his other arm over his right shoulder, and can barely feel the breath from his giggle tickle his nose before their lips are pressed together.

Gonta has never experienced a kiss before, but he expected Ouma, with his grand statements of “evil” and his dramatic personality, to be somehow rough with this. But his kiss is light and soft, unobtrusive and almost considerately gentle, and he settles into it and waits for Gonta’s response to the sensation against his lips.

It’s… nice. It feels nice. After two seconds of sitting there stiffly and waiting for Ouma to do something unpleasant, Gonta feels he tension drain out of his shoulders and relaxes enough to focus on the warm feeling rising up through his chest and into his neck and cheeks.

Gonta finds himself finally responding in a way that’s just as unexpected when Ouma reminds him that he’s waiting for a response by pushing ever so slightly further into the kiss. The hands that were nervously gripping at either side of his waist now wrap around it completely and pull him closer.  Gonta tilts his head, pushes forward and opens his mouth slightly on instinct. Ouma’s response back is immediate and practiced, but clearly pleased with this outcome. He opens his mouth further in turn, raising a hand to grab lightly at the back of Gonta’s head for support.

Their kissing starts as slow and experimental, with Gonta following each of Ouma’s examples exactly as he performs them. A tongue sweeping across his mouth, gentle nibbles to his lips, taking pausing breaths in between increasingly eager kisses- he’s not the most elegant or practiced student, but Gonta learns quickly to Ouma’s increasing satisfaction. It’s not long before they’re moving past practicing to frantically pushing into each other lip’s without even trying to be graceful or waiting for a response back, or before Ouma’s fingers curl into Gonta’s hair and pull him forward.

“…More.”

He says it quietly but firmly, not wasting a moment before leaning in to bite on Gonta’s lip, releasing it with a wet _pop_.

“I want to do more and more with you… More than this.” He emphasizes the eagerness in his breathless tone with another quick kiss. “Do you understand, Gonta?”

His head is swimming. It’s getting hard to focus on Ouma’s eager, lurid grin right in front of him, or the hand that’s suddenly rubbing up and down his thigh and bringing hot feelings into his lower half that he’s almost completely unfamiliar with. He speaks without not really knowing what he’s saying- the drive to push immediately back into kissing him without answering is almost overwhelming.

“…Yes, Gonta t-thinks so…” A rush of guilt flows through the hazy feeling flooding his entire body. It’s a partial lie. He knows Ouma wants to continue with this, but he’s not sure to what end- are they supposed to kiss different parts of each other’s bodies? Hug each other for a long time? Touch each other in other places, like how Ouma is rubbing his thigh higher and higher up his leg?

\--The touching, he is realizing, that is giving him a very, _very_ tight feeling in his groin.

As if he could read Gonta’s mind, Ouma giggles and smiles into his ear. “Liar~ It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean to. You’re too simple to know what I meant.”

He pulls away, releasing his hair and thigh, pulls his shirt over his head, and tosses it away before Gonta can ask what he’s doing. He’s halfway through undoing his belt when he closes his eyes and grins wide up at Gonta, in a smile that’s both innocent and knowing damn well the reaction his words are going to get.

“Let’s do it, then! Let’s have sex~”

If Ouma thought the blushing stuttering that the suggestion of kissing was amusing, then the yelp, arms flailing, and absolute explosion of extremely embarrassed half sentences that pour out of Gonta’s lobster-colored face is far beyond entertaining.

“T-That’s- I… Maybe we- How would we- You’re a _boy_ , Ouma-kun! S-S-Sex is for making— Um, sorry, b-but Gonta doesn’t think we can make a baby if—“

Ouma quiets him with another kiss as soon as he’s slid his pants completely off his legs, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. In the frantic sweep that Gonta does with his eyes before his vision is obscured by Ouma’s head, he sees that the front of them are tented.

“Nishishishi~  Hoooooow innocent~” He drags a lick across Gonta’s red, swollen lips from his lovebites, grinning once more. “You’re not creative enough, Gonta! You don’t do it just for babies. I told you I’d show you everything as your leader.”

Gonta was so distracted by Ouma’s words and his own racing heart that he doesn’t even notice Ouma’s hands at his belt and zipper, undoing both without the slightest hint of effort.

“There’s sooooooo much more you can do, just to feel good and for no other reason. For starters, you can-”

This entire time, Gonta has been sputtering increasingly flustered and panicked words that roll into embarrassed nonsense as Ouma has been pulling down the waist of his pants, but as soon as Ouma’s completely done away with all barriers to his cock and Gonta feels a cool breeze against his warm skin, any and all words fall silent as Gonta bites his lips and falls into complete stunned silence.

As does Ouma, in fact, when the entire length of Gonta’s erection springs out of his underwear and into full view of his incredulous, gaping stare. His mouth falls open and his expression changes to something akin to a rabbit seeing a massive, oversized, veiny—alright, alright, a large and hungry predator in the bushes.

This is, without a doubt, the largest penis Ouma has seen in his entire life.

And now Ouma realizes a very key problem going forward from here on out. Gonta is very _large_. Ouma, as he’s less than pleased to admit at the moment, is very _small_. There may be a problem here with… _fitting_.

While he can’t quite pinpoint the reason just yet, Gonta realizes that after 15 seconds of Ouma staring at him in complete silence with an unchanging expression of paled cheeks and pure shock he needs to say something on the off chance that it’s his fault for Ouma’s apparent heart attack.

“Is- Is something wrong with Gonta’s-?!” There’s no immediate response from Ouma, who is still staring down at his cock as if a ghost just shot out of his underwear. “Is it not normal?! Is yours smaller?!”

This was apparently both the right and wrong thing to say at the moment. Right in that it snaps Ouma out of his trance and gets him looking up again, but wrong in that his expression has shifted from dumbstruck incredulousness to irate annoyance in under two seconds. He can’t lose face here, damn it, especially after a stupid, obliviously insulting comment like that, no matter how _large_ the _obstacle_ is in front of him.

Gonta’s size doesn’t stop Ouma from continuing onward, however. Though Gonta’s cock is almost too thick to do so with only one hand, he begins to stroke up and down his shaft with a firm grip, rubbing his thumb in circles over the tip. The feeling shoots heat up his thighs and through his spine; It’s suddenly very hard to breathe.

“Is… Is this what you meant by s… Ah…”   He’s interrupted by a choked groan that comes out without him meaning to, caused by Ouma’s lips wrapping around the tip of his cock. His tongue rolls over, around, and hard against the tip, beads of saliva dribbling down his chin and onto his shaft- Gonta is big enough for just the tip and a bit under to take up most of his mouth.

Ouma continues his licks and light sucks to what he can fit into his mouth, his own breathing becoming ever so slightly stuttered. The strokes of his hand seem to get more and more eager, increasing speed in tandem with the movements of his tongue, but he suddenly pulls away, panting, and flops onto the bed face up. The sudden cool air on Gonta’s wet cock makes him shudder.

“Gonta, this is boring~ Part of making doing it fun is doing stuff to each other, not letting someone do things to you while giving nothing back. That’s selfish.” He gives a toothy, flushed grin up at Gonta, and pulls the waist of his boxers down just enough to reveal the V of his hipbones. In another smooth, practiced motion, he produces a few packets of lube from underneath his waistband like some kind of perverted magician, before his boxers are completely pulled off and tossed away carelessly.

Gonta watches with a heavily flushed gaze as Ouma wraps one hand around his newly exposed cock and begins to stroke himself, while the other laces itself with the slippery wetness of lube. It almost seems as if he’s completely forgotten that Gonta’s watching him as he closes his eyes and begins to slid and rub his fingers against his entrance in tandem with the strokes to his cock.

He looks content with pleasuring himself, eyes closed and cheeks turning a pleased shade of pink, at least until he sighs out a tone of annoyance. “Mm… Don’t just sit there uselessly, do something~”

A primal urge rises from Gonta’s chest and floods his head with a pulsing haze. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s tearing his shirt off his chest and lunging forward to tower over Ouma, grabbing his wrist away from rubbing his cock and pinning it to the sheets below them.

Ouma’s expression changes from content boredom to gleeful anticipation. “Ah, now this is excit- mmph!” Cutting him off with a biting, hungry kiss, Gonta replaces the fingers pushing themselves in and out of Ouma’s entrance with his own. Unlike Ouma’s lazy but practiced strokes and rubs to himself, Gonta practically shoves two of his fingers inside of Ouma without any sort of gentleness or hesitation.  

The surprise rush of rough pleasure is enough to put a catch in Ouma’s breath and for him to lose the controlling air his expression had for just a telling moment. Even if it’s just fingers, Gonta is large enough to cause a tight shudder up Ouma’s spine, rendering him into silent pants as he ever so slightly writhes into the sheets below them. He recollects himself with a deep breath- there’s no way he’s going to lose face or control now- while forcing a cheeky grin across his face in between rough kisses. “T-That’s better, Gonta. Like that~”

Gonta’s only response is a grunt between their lips as he begins to indelicately pull and push his fingers in and out of Ouma. Every nerve in his body is wired, his racing heart does nothing but push him forward, and the basic instinct clawing at the pit of his stomach have suddenly erased every last feeling nervousness within him. As he pulls his head away to breathe raggedly, he stares down at Ouma with an expression that, while flushed and sweating, has not a single trace of hesitation or shyness in it.

“…Gonta?” Ouma says with an increasingly befuddled expression and tight breaths, hand pinned underneath Gonta’s beginning to curl into a fist around what sheets he could grab. He expected nothing but nervousness and hesitation from the other larger boy with him acting as the guiding partner the entire time. Though he’s not ready to admit defeat and accept passivity yet, he finds himself biting his lip shut as Gonta’s fingers increase their speed and width inside of him. He feels his knees and thighs bending up and tensing around either side of Gonta’s hips, small noises beginning to rise from his throat, and his cock twitching with so much desire to be stroked that it’s becoming almost _painful_.

It wouldn’t be so bad being completely taken by Gonta, but there’s something about his expression that Ouma can’t predict actions from or even analyze. The unknown of it brings a rush of thrill through his chest and against all better senses he can’t help but feel _excited_ for whatever Gonta’s going to do, of all things.

“Gooonnntaaa~” He says with the same sort of spin that his head’s starting to feel, his free hand moving to grab a strand of Gonta’s hair and pulls it, hard. “What are you going to do to me….?”

Gonta give no verbal response back while panting against Ouma’s lips with no recognizable emotion behind his wide, wild eyes. For a moment, Ouma feels sour disappointment when he feels Gonta’s fingers pull out of him with no replacement for the rough pleasure they were providing him, and he’s left with nothing but the clawing desire for more. His eyes narrow, his mouth pouts and he’s left pulling an expression that’s just as frustrated as he’s feeling.

“Hey, Gonta -“

Before he can launch into a complaint, he finds his small, lean body being handled like a ragdoll with no opportunity to resist. It happens in one moment and fell swoop- Gonta makes a guttural growl, takes him by the neck and waist, flips him into his stomach, and forces his waist and ass upwards while leaving him on his knees. Ouma’s face hits the sheets with a loud thump, the wind being pushed out of his lungs in a startled gasp, and he clamors to grab onto the covers, a pillow or anything for balance. He’s left panting on his elbows, craning his head back to stare at Gonta with a confused yet enthralled gaze, and he can just make out the whites of Gonta’s teeth gnashed into a snarl.  

The incredible feeling of fullness and stretching, pain and pleasure, as Gonta spreads his ass apart and pushes his cock inside him is enough to make Ouma, with all his carefully crafted personas and reactions, to wrench his mouth wide open, squeeze his eyes shut and outright groan a loud, unrestrained cry against the mattress.

“A-AH—GONTA--!”

Gonta’s response is to crane his body over Ouma’s small, bent over frame and sink his teeth into the nape of the boy’s neck. His breath comes out in ragged, hot puffs through his teeth and against Ouma’s skin- though it’s a lesser sensation compared to Gonta’s cock inside him, it runs an obvious shudder down Ouma’s spine.

Against every one of his wishes for how he wants to appear to Gonta, there’s a shiver running through Ouma’s entire body and his breath is similarly shaking. Gonta hasn’t even started moving yet and for him to have reacting like this is—well, it makes him look  like much less of an all-powerful and controlling leader and he absolutely cannot have _that._

Craning his neck around, forcing a tight grimace and clenching the sheets below him with two hands, Ouma makes yet another mistake out of overestimating his own ability.  

“Is… Is that all you’re planning to… do to me? Is this it?”

Those are fatal last words. It is not the only thing Gonta is planning to do to Ouma, in fact.

As if on cue, he begins to slam his hips into Ouma with the full force of his thigh and core muscles, thrusting in and out, humping him like some wild thing in the peak of heat and making the same sort of growling, primal noises into the skin of Ouma’s neck. One hand is at the side of his head pressed to the blankets, while the other wraps around Ouma’s entire chest and forces him into immobility against his mouth and teeth, continuing with his bites, licks and hungry kisses into his soft, pale and quickly reddening skin.

The extended noise- and it is a single one that comes out in one exhale- that Ouma makes as all of this happens completely blows any hope of him looking like he has control or dominance. It’s a cry that twists into a moan that stutters off into rattling, gasping noises that are each halfway between a groan and a desperate attempt for breath. His face, so carefully controlled in expression before, is entirely bright red with drool beginning to flow down his chin and reflexive tears budding in the corners of his tightly shut eyes.

Somewhere in the back of his pounding head, he’s grateful all of his is being shown to the sheets below him as his face is quite literally pounded into the mattress with every one of Gonta’s thrusts. After the initial one, the rest of his rhythmic, gasping moans, mixed with strangled attempts at Gonta’s name and at wrangling in his own noises, are breathed into the bed below him, each one increasing in volume exponentially until he’s practically screaming in Gonta’s ear. It doesn’t help the appearance of his composition when Gonta releases his teeth for a moment, pauses, and continues the slamming of his hips into Ouma with a bite to the other side of his neck- the short respite makes his noises so, so much louder in comparison to the brief panting silence the break caused.

Beyond the pain the stretching Gonta’s cock moving in and out of him so rapidly and without rhythm causes, or the bruising he’s feeling forming on the backs of his thighs and ass from the sheer power of Gonta’s own legs and abdomen slamming into them, there’s an incredible feeling of pleasure that completely paralyzes him from the inside that prevents him from moving or resisting any of the ways Gonta is fucking him. If his dick was swollen and begging to be pleasured before, now it’s painfully throbbing with sheer need for release. He so, so wants to, but he can’t even release his hand from the excruciatingly tight grip around the bedsheets to stroke himself.

He almost, almost gets used to this, or at least enough to settle in a rhythm of breathing and groaning, but once again Gonta takes him by complete surprise and throws any of his expectations into complete disarray. He feels Gonta suddenly pull out, and once more his entire body is taken and thrown like a doll- this time, he’s flipped on his back once more and he’s left staring at the spinning ceiling as his scalp hits the headboard.  

He looks up at Gonta- vision blurred, cheeks burning, mouth wide open and eyes certainly leaking- and sees nothing but carnal lust in Gonta’s sweating brow and intently focused expression. It is at this moment, when Gonta pushes into him once again while slamming a hand right next to his throat while the other grabs under his ass and lifts it into his cock, that Ouma realizes he is truly and utterly _fucked_ in literally every sense of the word.

This time, there’s no disguising the completely pleasure-contorted expression on his face as Gonta continues the hard rolls of his hips into him. His bleary, zoned out and completely flushed expression, his open mouth and wet tongue falling to the corner of his mouth and the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and neck are exposed for Gonta and the world to see. His loud, gasping moans are let loose at the ceiling without the benefit of being muffled by the mattress, each one more sloppy and undignified than the last with every thrust of Gonta’s cock in and out of his bruised ass.

As Gonta loses himself to the primal feeling of fucking Ouma and all senses except the need to come fly away, his motions become erratic and desperate, his ragged breathing turning into choking pants. It takes every last trace of strength in his thighs, muscular and strong as they are, to increase the speed of his thrusts to a pace that steadily builds the tight feeling that coils in his thighs and dick. His hand grips the sheets next to Ouma’s shaking head and he bends down to curl into the boy’s body and devote his entire focus to reaching release.  

With every slam into him, the more Ouma’s head knocks against the headboard and the less of Gonta’s face he can see above him. He’s gripping the sheets in a desperate bid for control of the hot pleasure that’s building up, tensing his legs and toes, making it extremely hard to breathe past the reflexive and instinctual groans that slide from his mouth. The more the building feeling of coming floods his body, the less he feels connected to reality and the more the edges of his vision close in on his line of sight. It builds and builds, one, two, three hard thrusts, three more knocks into the headboard, and the last thing Ouma feels before the blackness completely overtakes his vision is the shooting pleasure of his own orgasm racking his body. A few seconds of letting the waves of pleasure course through him, a rattling exhale, and he loses all consciousness amidst the last of Gonta’s desperate thrusts into him.

\------------------------

Gonta’s orgasm brings both incredible relief and terrible clarity. He’s left at the mercy of the intensely pleasurable and hot feeling for a few wonderful moments, when all he can feel is the warmth of Ouma underneath and around him. Without actually thinking about it, he wraps both of his arms around Ouma’s shoulders and pulls him up and close, kissing his forehead and enjoying the feeling of their closeness.

And then the horrible realization comes as senses and rational thinking flood back into his head. By now, Ouma should be making some dramatic comment or overblown criticism or _something_ about what just happened. But Ouma is completely limp and not moving or reacting to any of this, and when Gonta’s vision is finally clear enough to really look at him, he sees that his eyes are closed and his mouth is loosely open.  

“O…Ouma-kun?!” He pulls out of him, rearranges himself so he’s supporting his waist, and shakes the boy, desperately trying to wake him up. He knows it’s a bad idea, but he can’t think of anything else he can do to get him awake again. “Ouma-kun, please wake up!”

Guilt and panic flood all the pathways that pleasure had before, and he finds himself hyperventilating faster than he was before he was about to come.

\--He’s _killed_ Ouma. He’s killed him by having sex with him, and now he’s completely naked on a bed with… _fluids_ leaking out of him, bite marks and bruises all over his shoulders and lower body and also he is _dead_. This is the _least_ gentleman-like thing you can possibly do to someone.

_There will have be a trial for this._

It would be fitting if it was intentional, but it’s only when Gonta has reached the critical point of his panic that Ouma’s eyes flutter open and blearily land on his face which is on the verge of messy tears at this point.

“Hn… Gonta?”

Gonta practically bursts into those tears from relief as soon as Ouma speaks. He grins widely, pulls Ouma closer into a desperate cuddle and spills out a tidal wave of relieved sobs and apologies.

“Y-Yes, Ouma-kun! Oh thank goodness, you’re alright! Gonta is so glad— You’re awake-- A-and he’s sorry about--   _Please forgive me_!”

If Gonta was more mean-spirited and less distracted by his complete relief that Ouma didn’t die by dicking, he’d find the contrast between Ouma’s tomato red face and the sweat pouring down his forehead with the absolutely blank expression he’s forcing on it absolutely hilarious.

“Gonta?” He asks with a tone that is just as forced into monotone as his barely contained expression.

Gonta snaps and shuts up immediately. “Yes?”

Ouma shuffles his body, winces, and contorts his face back into the epitome of blankness that it was before. He can feel his head spin, his cock throb and his breaths return to somewhat steady while Gona’s cum leaks out of his thoroughly abused ass, a sensation that’s a combination of disgusting, painful and intensely satisfying. At the very least, he’s never felt like _that_ after sex.

He made many mistakes with this, he’s realizing, but somehow he fucked up his way into satisfaction. Fitting.

“I can’t walk. Carry me to the bath, and never tell anyone that you did that or any of this with me.”

Gonta understands that maybe a few of the things they did weren’t appropriate to talk about with the rest of the students, but there’s still something more pressing and concerning to him. “But… Um, you passed out, and Gonta thinks that’s something someone should know about because you could be hurt, so maybe we should tell Sai-“

“Especially don’t tell Saihara-chan.”

He’d argue they should tell someone something, but he can’t find the strength to argue Ouma’s resolution. There was a more immediately pressing question that he had to ask- as a gentleman.

“Was it… Uh, it felt good for Gonta, but for you, did it-“ He’s cut off by his own embarrassment and waits for a response instead of completing his question. It’s given as Ouma leans his head into Gonta’s neck, expression purposefully hidden from him.

“….Mm, it was alright. I might ask you for another favor later.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: When Miu sees Ouma and Gonta hanging out a lot after chapter 2, she assumes they're having (freaky size difference) sex behind the scenes. 
> 
> Bitch knows what's up.


End file.
